


no love like your love

by neville



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Fluff, Internet, Kissing, M/M, Thanos (Marvel) Dies, Thor went for the head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 15:31:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21210878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neville/pseuds/neville
Summary: “So, uh, I drew the short straw in telling you this, but your worst non-Hulk-related nightmare has come true and you’ve gone viral.”“For what?” Bruce asks nervously.“For necking Thor,” Tony says.





	1. catch me

Three thoughts cross Bruce’s mind when Thor goes for the head. 

  1. Thor - God, Thor, he _is_ a god, is the most majestic and beautiful person Bruce has ever seen; the eye of the storm, the heat in the air before the lightning strikes. 
  2. Bruce might have been lying to himself about being straight for the past - okay, literally his _entire life_. 
  3. He might be more specifically gay for Thor, which is a thought that has only just occurred to Bruce, but would make a lot of things suddenly make a lot of sense. 
  4. Thor has just decapitated Thanos, taken a moment to breathe, and is now walking _right towards him_. 

Bruce steps out of the Hulkbuster, suddenly feeling short and small among the chaos and death, and stares up at Thor, who looks as if he’s walked through the end of the world just to be here. He’s the Avenger that can temper the supernatural. 

“Can I kiss you?” Thor asks, and it takes Bruce several full seconds to process the question. He opens his mouth and hopes that something smart will come out, but instead: 

“Here?” Bruce asks slowly. The shyness that gnaws at his mind, the feeling that everybody is always watching and judging, is something that he wishes he could turn off; but even being propositioned by a God isn’t enough to stop his doubts. Thor nods. The thing is, though – 

This is probably the only time something  _ this _ unbelievable is ever going to happen to Bruce (waking up on an alien planet, suddenly, is  _ nothing _ ), and so for a moment he chokes the part of him that says  _ don’t make an idiot of yourself, Banner  _ and says “okay”. 

Thor’s mouth is chapped, and his lips are dry, and there’s a heat running through them like the warmth of a star, and Bruce puts his arms up around Thor’s neck and kisses him like it’s going to be the last time. Thor is still holding his axe, but the arm that’s free rests itself against Bruce’s waist. 

God, Bruce thinks, nothing has ever felt this good in his life; and he can forgive all those years of mistakes for this. 

“Banner,” Thor says quietly, “catch me.”

Bruce is about to ask what that means when he feels Thor suddenly go  _ slack _ against him and drops; Bruce yelps, and just barely catches him – Thor is  _ heavy _ , and strong, and Bruce sometimes struggles to open bottles, but Steve is beside him in an instant, easing some of the weight off so that they can take a shoulder each. “Got him?” Steve asks, and Bruce nods. “Okay, let’s get him inside.” 

It’s only there, as Bruce carries Thor through the scorched grass of battle, that he quite realises what has just happened: because the world right now is a blitz, a blur, fear and the feel of choking. Thor has just saved Earth, and in the moments after, decided that he was going to kiss Bruce.  _ Oh _ . 

_ Oh _ . 

Okay. That’s – okay. 

Thor is out for days; Rocket explains that he just absorbed a dying star, and then killed a giant purple tyrant, so he probably won’t be waking anytime soon. The Wakandans hook him up to an IV, and insist on doing the same to Bruce since he’s barely eaten or slept since crashing from the sky. He’s given sleeping tablets, since every time he closes his eyes he sees a kaleidoscope of blood and gore and  _ Thor _ , and falls asleep in a guest room that was pristine until he got there. He’s not sure what day it is when he wakes up; but he feels slightly better, at least. 

“Where’s Thor?” he asks, and is led down a corridor by someone whose job description probably doesn’t include this. He gives himself ten points for not asking about Nat first, as if he ever really  _ cared _ that way.  _ Where’s Thor _ and  _ how’s Thor _ are words that just come naturally. 

Thor wakes something like a day after Bruce, and after they both have some soup (Bruce has tomato, and Thor has some kind of meaty broth), Bruce finally lets himself reach a hand across the table and ask Thor if he – like,  _ meant _ that. 

“Meant what?” Thor asks, rearranging his limbs under the rather comfortable-looking blanket he’d brought from his room. 

“The kiss,” Bruce says. 

“Of course I meant it,” Thor says. “I’m sorry if I ever slighted you in the past, but I have feelings for you, Banner. I realised it when I thought I was going to die; that if I should survive, screw all my reservations, I was going to tell you.” 

“Oh. Wow. Um.” Bruce runs a hand through his hair. “I should probably let you know, I’m really not good at dating. I say and do all the wrong stuff all the time, and I’m pretty much a disaster, so–”

“Stop,” Thor says, reaching across to take Bruce’s hand. “I don’t care.”

Bruce frowns. “You don’t care?”

“About all those things.”

“Oh,” Bruce says, very softly, watching as Thor turns his hand over and strokes his thumb across Bruce’s palm. “I mean, do you want to go with me?” 

“Go with you? Where?”

“No, it’s an expression – I mean, do you want to date me?” 

“It would be an honour.”

Bruce blushes, and laughs. Of all the people in the world, and in the other ones too, he can’t believe that it’s Thor who would feel honoured by dating  _ him _ . He’s human, and his only distinguishing skill is getting phenomenally angry. But – he’s not going to say no, and he says “yeah”, and leans back against his chair, and realises that nothing he could do would stop him from grinning right now. 

This is what it feels like, he realises, to  _ like _ someone.


	2. new york, new york

It’s been five days since the Battle of Wakanda and Bruce’s stomach has finally resettled to solids and he has slept one night in Thor’s bed, curled up against him and waiting for the nightmares to pass, when Tony sits him down to talk. Bruce is expecting simply to be told that they’ll be returning to the United States soon – he feels terrible, really, accepting such hospitality from Wakanda when their country has seen such pain, but T’Challa is kind and insists that their remaining here to recover and regroup is fine; they all shared in battle. 

But what Tony actually says to him is “so, uh, I drew the short straw in telling you this, but your worst non-Hulk-related nightmare has come true and you’ve gone viral”. 

Bruce knows about going viral. He’s seen memes and cat videos and watches Vine compilations when he can’t sleep, even if he’s not sure what he finds so funny about them; and he is so scared of being in the public eye himself that his blood runs cold. “For what?” he asks nervously. 

“For necking Baywatch,” Tony says, and pushes his phone across the table. It’s of an article on the BBC – Christ, this is even news in Britain? – describing the ascension process of the photo to fame. There’s no credit for the picture, but there it is, at the top of the article: Bruce, his arms hooked around Thor, their lips locked. Twitter is full of speculation on his sexuality already, and it’s when he sees a tweet describing Betty as a  _ beard _ that he pushes the phone back. “Yeah. I checked with ol’ Ezekiel 25:17 – Nick Fury – and we’re too late to be able to do anything except damage control at this point. ‘Damage’ being a working definition.” 

Bruce groans, running his hands down his face, the pads of his fingers pulling at the skin of his cheeks. “I know that the Internet is one of the greatest developments in human history, but right now I really hate it.”

“We’ve all been there, bud,” Tony says, patting him on the shoulder. “Listen. We’ve got a press conference coming up for the whole ‘okay so here’s why we killed this giant purple guy’ thing, so you’ve got the  _ option _ of saying something at that if you want, but you don’t have to. Equally, we could make you a Twitter.” 

“I’m not joining social media, Tony. I can barely keep up with the WhatsApp.” 

“Fine, fine. But seriously - if you don’t want to talk at the press conference, we can release a separate statement, or just say nothing at all. But - and, I mean, I know this isn’t really my place to say, what with me being a playboy and everything, but the kids are really rooting for you. They’re really into the idea of LGBT heroes, and I mean _really_ into it. There are whole sexy Medium thinkpieces on how this could improve people’s lives. No pressure, though.”

“None at all,” Bruce says dryly, though he gets what Tony’s saying. He knows that out public figures are hugely important, but – God, he’s not ready to process and think about this yet. He needs a coffee. He’s been told he shouldn’t be having any yet but he  _ really _ needs one. In fact, he just wants to inject some caffeine straight into his bloodstream. He can feel the Hulk at the back of his mind, picking up on the rise in his blood pressure. Even in the middle of a domestic dispute, there he still is, watching, waiting. “Have you told Thor?”

“Yeah, I sent Rogers to tell him. Who better to explain going viral to an alien than someone who doesn’t really understand going viral?”

“Couldn’t you have gotten Nat to do it?”

“Yeah, she and all the sensible people said no. Hence, Rogers. I’m pretty sure he gets  _ this _ situation, though, just maybe not memes. Maybe Underoos can teach him.” 

“If I can’t understand memes, an octogenarian certainly isn’t going to,” Bruce says, getting up from the table. “Are there any coffee places nearby? Because I’m going to need an espresso to cope.” 

“Sure,” Tony says. “I’ll take you. I’m gonna need, like, three shots in my coffee to keep me awake. This place five minutes away does the best brownies. Heavenly. You’ll love them.” 

  
  


When Bruce returns back, he takes a long shower in his room where he tries very hard not to think about everything and thinks about it all instead. He’s starting to reach beard level, and he’s not entirely sure he suits the nomad look as much as Steve, and patiently shaves in front of the mirror. In his head, he starts statements and then scratches them all out; he thinks of things he could say, changes all the words and then changes them back again, and then decides he’s probably overthinking it and lets his mind freewheel for a while as his hair dries. Still curly, uncontrollably so. When he was younger he had grown it out for a while at college, an explosion of black curls that never quite ordered themselves on top of his head. 

Because the thought is obsessing him, he decides to check his phone, scrolling through the news headlines until he finds his own. 

> ** _Gay Avengers kiss takes social media by storm_ **
> 
> _ An image of Robert Bruce Banner, aka the Hulk, and Thor Odinson kissing began circulating on Twitter earlier this week, with millions of likes and retweets. It broke Twitter’s records, necessitating the company to change its web display to accommodate for the massive numbers. The two Avengers appeared to be celebrating post-battle and sharing a romantic moment.  _
> 
> _ Some on Twitter have claimed that the image is a fake, either made in Photoshop or an advanced deepfake. Experts in photo editing claim that the photo is definitely real. So far, the Avengers have not released a statement.  _
> 
> _ Bruce Banner is an expert in many scientific fields with a record 7 Ph.Ds; he specialises in studies of gamma rays at New York University. His alter ego, the Hulk, is the product of an intense dose of gamma radiation. He was missing for over two years prior to the incident in Wakanda. Thor Odinson is a crown prince of Asgard and the Norse God of Thunder. Neither have been romantically linked to other men previously. Banner was previously engaged to Betty Ross, daughter of General Thaddeus E. Ross, and Odinson was rumoured to have been dating astrophysicist Jane Foster.  _
> 
> _ Reaction to the picture has been mixed, with some praising the couple, and others decrying the two Avengers for their sexuality.  _

He sighs, and as he rests his phone back on the dresser, hears a polite and reserved knock at the door. It’s Steve, and Bruce walks with him back through to the royal kitchen, because he could already kill for another coffee. “So I told Thor,” Steve says, “and he was pretty confused, because apparently Asgardians don’t have the human concept of sexuality, so trying to explain why this was such big news wasn’t easy and I’m not sure if he totally gets it. But he understands that it’s  _ big _ , at least, and his opinion is that it’s up to you whether or not you want to make any kind of official statement.” 

“Asgardians don’t have sexuality?” Bruce frowns. “So they have gender, and sexism, but not - sexuality. Right.” 

“Yeah, I don’t get it either,” Steve sighs. “How are you holding up?” 

“I mean - I don’t even know where to start trying to figure my life out, but that feels pretty standard by now. How about you? I heard - well, only a bit, about that big bust-up you had with Tony.”

“Really could’ve used you there,” Steve sighs. “Yeah, it’s - we’re trying to figure it out. We’ll work it out. I’m just glad we managed to take down Thanos; his plan would’ve been…” 

“Bad,” Bruce says. “Biologically speaking.”

“Right. I’m just hoping we can take this opportunity while we’re all together again to work things out. Clint and Scott are still under house arrest.” 

“I don’t think Clint minds,” Bruce admits. “He’d be happy just firing arrows in his backyard with his kids forever.” 

Steve laughs. “Sure he would. But maybe we can see about adding a couple new Avengers. Six just doesn’t feel like enough, does it?” 

“Not anymore.” 

Thor is in the kitchen already, trying a Wakandan delicacy and looking traditionally enthusiastic about it; so is Natasha, but she, like Bruce, has gravitated straight towards the coffee machine. It’s an industrial one, which Bruce knows how to use from a part time job as a barista in college, but she seems to know the ins and outs of it just as well. “Hey, boys,” she says. “Coffee?” 

Bruce and Steve have lattes, and Natasha takes her coffee black, and they sit around the kitchen table, doling out teaspoons of sugar. It’s been so long, Bruce supposes, since they’ve done this: just sat around and chatted and laughed and felt for a few moments like nothing at all has happened. They never really had enough of this, in Bruce’s mind, the easy domesticity of just chatting over food. 

“Banner,” Thor says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Bruce says, taking a last gulp of his coffee before following Thor down the corridor. The Wakandan palace is beautiful, but still a little confusing, so Bruce isn’t sure if he’s confused or if Thor is lost as they walk. “Is this about the whole picture thing?”

“Yes,” Thor says. “I thought I should see how you were feeling. Steve said you might find it difficult.” 

“Yeah, it’s more publicity than I like. I guess at least it’s not because I destroyed something. But this one’s - people really have opinions about it. This isn’t just  _ Hulk is terrible _ .” 

“I don’t really understand it. I think it should be your choice what you want to do.”

Bruce groans softly. “I don’t know,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “A part of me wants to just let it die, but - this is also really important for a lot of people.” 

“Important? How?” Thor asks, and Bruce still feels his face flush on instinct when Thor takes his hand. It’s much bigger than Bruce’s, and warm; so warm. 

“Well, there isn’t a lot of diversity in science right now. There’s still a push to get more women into scientific fields, and beyond that, to get gay, bisexual, trans, and non-binary people there, too. So coming out might be important for showing people that we exist in scientific fields. And then, I mean, it’s going to be so good for the representation of LGBT people if we’re literally saving the world.”

“We can do things however you want,” Thor says, squeezing Bruce’s hand, “and however slow. But I also have to ask something else.”

“Yeah, shoot.” 

Thor pauses for a moment, but seems to understand the expression. “After this press conference,” he says, “I’ll be settling somewhere with the Asgardians. We need to find a home. I understand if you’d like to stay in New York, but I also want to ask if you’ll come to New Asgard with me.”

“New Asgard,” Bruce says softly. “Where are you going to go?”

“My father showed Loki and I a place in Norway. It was beautiful, and I’d like to settle there.” 

“I’m probably going to have to go between there and New York,” Bruce says, “but - I would be honoured to live in New Asgard, man, that sounds amazing. Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Thor says. “You saved my people.” He takes a sharp right, and it’s only then that Bruce realises that they’re now in the stretch of corridor where his room is; Thor stops outside his door, and Bruce lets them both in. “And, you know, you have 7 Ph.Ds. I’m sure they’ll be very useful.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Bruce says honestly, and he’s about to explain why most of his degrees aren’t actually particularly useful outside of a lab or outside of theory, but Thor kisses him and cuts off all of his scientific thoughts. Bruce isn’t entirely sure that he’ll ever get used to it, to this, to being kissed by someone as absolutely  _ radiant _ as Thor; and sure, he maybe isn’t the most radiant right now, still in pain like they all are, but he’s still the God of Thunder and the lightning still runs in his veins and he is still the most incredible person Bruce has ever met. He wants to disappear into the warmth of Thor’s arms and hold him forever and never think about the rest of the world again. Instead, he touches his hands to the side of Thor’s face, palms coming against rough beard, and kisses him back. 

“Why do I have to tell the whole world I’m gay in the same week that I figured it out myself?” Bruce asks. 

“Fate has a terrible sense of humour,” Thor says. 

  
  


Bruce spends most of the rest of his free time that week on Twitter, or reading opinion articles and thinkpieces about the story. Since most of their usual press people are still busy with the whole  _ so there was an alien invasion  _ thing, it’s Rhodey who ends up sitting down with Bruce to help him write a statement. 

“It’s Rhodey,” Tony had said. “He doesn’t have any time for bullshit. He’s perfect.” 

Thor gives his input, when Bruce asks, but otherwise starts to occupy himself with making preparations for moving the Asgardians. They’ll be going straight to Norway with Valkyrie and Korg and starting to set up, and Thor’s going to join them after the conference in New York - hopefully with Bruce, provided the publicity all goes well. He’s starting to draw up a city plan, which definitely isn’t his specialty, and he’s taking as much input as possible from the Wakandans and the other Avengers. He still paces in the evenings, mostly, and ends up in Bruce’s bed more often than not. 

T’Challa organises a feast for them on the final day, and Bruce is regretful to say his goodbyes to Shuri, who’s been fixing Vision and educating Bruce since. She just thinks  _ differently _ to him: she’s so much sharper, and where Bruce would spend days thinking through a problem, she just seems to divine the solution in minutes. 

He and Thor are talking at the drinks table after the feast when she appears, seemingly out of nowhere, and asks “when’s the wedding?” 

“Hopefully soon,” Thor says without missing a beat; Bruce thanks God he’s here, because his heart had practically seized up at the question. “Preferably sometime in the next century.” He puts an arm around Bruce for a moment; not long enough to draw attention, but for long enough to be comforting. 

“Because my brother said that Rocket would be the ring bearer, but I’m thinking it’s going to be the ax in a wheelchair.” 

“It’s going to be Stormbreaker in a wheelchair,” Bruce nods, his face splitting into a grin. “Maybe with, like, a flower crown to make it more presentable.” He takes a sip of orange juice, and wishes for a moment that he still drank, because he’s been eyeing up that red wine all night and could really use just - letting go. But no: he doesn’t trust that. He tucks himself a little closer into Thor. 

“So,” Thor says.  _ He’s _ drinking the red wine, of course. It’s earthy. “What are your thoughts on whether or not Bruce should release a statement? You understand this ‘viral’ thing.” 

“He doesn’t have to release a statement,” Shuri says, picking up a glass of juice and downing half of it in one go. “Everybody’s known he was gay since, like, 2000.” 

Bruce frowns. “Were you even  _ alive _ in 2000?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Everybody knows.” 

“You’re telling me that everyone knew I was gay before  _ I _ knew I was gay?” 

“Well, duh. You’ve been looking at Thor like you’ve been in love with him, since, like, 2012.” Bruce stands in bewildered silence for a moment, and Shuri laughs. “What? You really didn’t know? Oh, man, you’re _repressed_. I feel sorry for you.” She pauses for a second, arranging herself in a way Bruce has never seen before, and a rare moment of something almost akin to _seriousness_ passes through her. “I think you should make the statement. It’s important to people to see anything other than white cishets everywhere. So boring but they still take up _so much space_.” 

Bruce thanks the Gods and his incessant research into LGBT representation in STEM with Rhodey, because otherwise the word  _ cishet  _ would’ve gone right over his head. But - now he feels like he’s starting to understand something that he didn’t before, and something that is so much bigger than him. He nods. “Yeah. I just - wish I had more to offer.” 

“You’re a start,” Shuri laughs. “Get some black Avengers and the ball will really be rolling. And I mean, you pretty much pioneered research in so many fields, so you’ve done plenty. Now just let me finish it all off and take the credit.” 

“Sure,” he says. “Knock yourself out.” 

Bruce is usually actually terrified of flying, even though he has enough statistical knowledge to calculate the very small chances of anything going wrong; but he’s so tired, emotionally more than physically, that he sleeps most of the journey on the plane, snoozing gently on Thor’s shoulder. When he’s awake, he idly eats a packet of peanuts and reads. 

“Oi, Alan Turing,” Tony says, sitting down opposite him. “You and me are taking a detour.”

Bruce groans. “Oh God, where?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Queens.” 

“Queens? What’s in Queens?” 

What’s in Queens, apart from Flushing Meadows–Corona Park, is Peter Parker. Bruce hasn’t really met him before, and tries not to stare when he realises that Tony’s golden boy is about fifteen and currently in the middle of gushing about how much he loves Bruce’s work on quarks. While Bruce is thankful to be appreciated for his scientific acuity and not his ability to turn green and angry, he’s still a little uncomfortable, and smiles sheepishly, wondering why the hell Tony brought him out for coffee with the youngest Avenger. Peter doesn’t even  _ drink _ coffee: he orders a hot chocolate, with cream and marshmallows, and Bruce starts to feel his age as he knocks back a cappuccino. 

“So,” Tony says, drumming his fingers on the table. Tony takes his coffee miserably black, and then sneaks milk and sugar in when nobody’s looking. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m still kinda tired,” Peter says. “I didn’t go to school on Monday or Tuesday because I felt really rough since I was in space and everything. But I think I’m okay now. Boy, I’m really glad we took down that Thanos guy; his plan would’ve been awful. Physically awful, but also, it felt like he didn’t even  _ plan _ it; I mean, for him, what constitutes life? If it had worked, would everyone who survive have really bad guts? What about the trees? Does Thanos know about climate change? I mean–” 

“It’s just bad eugenics,” Bruce says, taking a sip of his coffee. “Bottlenecks destroy genetic diversity.”

“I don’t know if they teach high school bio on purple people planet,” Tony says dryly. “Okay, enough of the scientific foreplay. We’re here to talk about the whole gay thing.”

“If I’d known we were talking about that, I would’ve gotten another coffee,” Bruce sighs. 

“There’s still time,” says Tony, but Bruce shakes his head and gestures for Tony to go on. “Okay. Well, Brucie here is planning on making a statement at the next press conference, and we’d really like to get a feel for how the young folks - you know, the ‘people under the age of forty who are still clinging to the last shreds of youth like Dorian Gray’ contingent - are feeling about this whole shebang. The opinions of the over-forties are very mixed.” 

“I think it’d be great if you came out,” Peter says earnestly. “I’m not really an expert, but - I know a lot of people are really happy seeing more LGBT representation and a gay or bi superhero would be  _ so cool _ , you know? And - I think if there are more out people in the mainstream, that really helps with, like, the perception, too. Of the over-forties.” 

“I’m not sure that I’d help,” Bruce says, idly stirring the dregs of his coffee. “People don’t like me. Not since I broke New York.” 

“What do you mean?” Peter asks, frowning. “People love you, Dr. Banner. You’re one of the most well-known scientists on the planet right now. We learn all about you in my science classes! You’re an exam question, and you’re on the wall, and you’re - you’re amazing.” 

“He’s a bit too old for you, you know that, right?” Tony says. Bruce kicks his shin; well, insofar as it could be called a  _ kick _ . It’s something more of a forceful nudge. “Ow, okay;  _ jokes _ , Banner, have you heard of them?” 

“Nobody likes anybody they study at school, do they?” Bruce asks dryly. “There’s a ten year incubation period before you can even think about liking them again.” 

“But - but really,” Peter insists. “Maybe people don’t like studying the science you’ve done, but - I don’t think people hate you at all. And I still think that you coming out publicly would be really great. If - if we took all the things out of the lives of people who didn’t like you that you were responsible for, I think they’d be pretty miserable.” 

“Oh my God,” Bruce says. “He’s so  _ cute _ , Tony.” 

“I know, right? What a sweetheart.” 

“Thanks, Peter. My heart is warmed, man; I haven’t felt this good since Thor gave me a hug on Sakaar.” 

“Careful now, Bruce.” 

From his pocket, Bruce produces the crudely-scrawled current version of his statement, and passes it to Peter. “What do you think?” he asks. 

“I think,” Peter says, stretching out the vowels in the word as he squints at the paper, “it’s really good. And I think you shouldn’t overthink it, because people really like honesty now. I think. I mean, I don’t know, I’m not that good at social media.” 

“But you  _ are _ the only under-30 we’ve polled,” Tony says, “so, thank you. And obviously the hot chocolate was on me. My treat. Not Bruce’s. He’s broke. Being missing doesn’t pay.” 

“Thanks,” Bruce mutters. 

  
  


There are times when Bruce can almost forget that he was gone, and times when he feels it as acutely as a pain in his chest; now, standing in the doorway of a bedroom he didn’t decorate in a compound he’s never been in that’s something like home to the rest of them, he feels tears prick his eyes. It’s bittersweet, because while so much has gone on without him, the fact is that somebody brought all of his things here, and assembled a room for him with all of his normal clothes and post-Hulk spares and all of his books and they’ve even hung his art and pictures in a way that he actually likes. The furniture is his style, from the bedspread to the curtains. Left on his pillow is a stuffed Hulk toy, and he clutches it to his chest for a moment as he takes a breath that feels as deep as the universe. 

_ Don’t cry _ , he tells himself.  _ Don’t cry _ . 

He thinks about Bucky for a moment, because God, the world hated Bucky and he didn’t even know who he was for years and suddenly he’s having to adjust to some kind of life that doesn’t feel like it makes any sense. Bruce could have it worse, he supposes, but that doesn’t make him feel any better, nor does it do anything to dispel the water gathering in his eyes. 

He knows it’s Thor from the moment the arm comes around his shoulders and draws him in; it helps, of course, that Thor presses a kiss to his temple. Bruce is coming to realise that sometimes Thor speaks with touch when his words fail him; he’s eloquent, sure, but trips over his own tongue when it comes to talking about feelings. Bruce gets that. Feelings are complicated. 

“Where’s your room?” he asks. His mouth feels dry. 

“The next floor up,” Thor says, and Bruce wants to say that he isn’t ready to sleep in his own room yet because he feels all the life that passed him by when he was gone is going to swallow him whole here, but he has a feeling that Thor understands, at least somewhat. 

He takes a pair of his prescription glasses (Lord, he has missed being able to see without squinting), his stuffed Hulk, and takes the lift up to the next floor. It’s made completely of glass, and he staunchly refuses to look outside and watch as they ascend higher and higher from the ground level. Thor, however, watches as they rise over New York; he’s told Bruce before that he loves the views here, loves how different they are from Asgard, and Bruce can understand that - he’s just not a fan of heights, whether the Hulk can catch him or not. 

When they get to Thor’s room, which is much larger and more extravagantly decorated, Bruce immediately collapses onto his massive king-size bed while Thor offers him a selection of Earth snacks and treats that were bought for his return. Bruce takes a Three Musketeers, and Thor has a Twinkie, which he sings the praises of. 

“I think Twinkies are overrated,” Bruce says. Thor gapes at him. 

“These,” he says pointedly, “are amazing, Banner.  _ You’re  _ overrated.” 

From anyone else, that would feel like a thinly veiled insult; but coming from Thor, Bruce just laughs, pulling himself upright and turning the toy Hulk over in his hands as he eats. “Oh, look, someone sewed my abs on. Cute.” 

“How is the Hulk?” Thor asks. “I don’t, uh, know how the two of you work, but Steve told me that he wasn’t cooperating with you.” 

“Usually we’re separate, but I can feel him at the back of my mind. Sometimes he talks. Right now he just isn’t talking at all, and he isn’t coming out even when I need him.” Bruce moves the arms of the plush doll. He sighs. “I don’t know. I’m hoping that he’ll get over this  _ thing _ , and that we can sort this out, because - I felt really useless, out there, not able to do anything about Thanos.” 

“You’re not useless,” Thor assures him. “And it was  _ you _ who told me that.” 

“Seven science doctorates couldn’t do anything against the world’s biggest threat,” Bruce says softly. “It felt like being there was a waste of time. What am I except for false hope?”

“Banner. Don’t be silly. You know that brute strength isn’t everything. And Thanos - well, Thanos was an immensely powerful space being with immensely powerful space stones. He was a challenging foe for everybody.” Thor crosses the room in just a few strides, climbing onto the bed next to Bruce. “The mind is as powerful as the body.”

Bruce wants to say  _ I don’t think so anymore _ , or any number of downbeat responses; instead, he lets Thor kiss him, the pressure dipping into the mattress. 

  
  


Bruce hates press conferences and has always hated press conferences; in fact, any manner of public events are generally the bane of his existence, and he frets for too long about what blazer to wear (because he  _ should _ , shouldn’t he, to try and look semi-professional) until Thor pushes one into his hands and says “I think this will look good” and it  _ does _ , and turns the paper of his statement over and over in his hands until it starts to look traumatised. Tony practically forces Bruce out at all, and he walks nervously in front of the rows of cameras; he’s the hated one, still, he’s sure, he’s so sure. It feels like everybody is looking at him, and he wants nothing more than for Thor to put a hand on his back and try to calm him down, but he doesn’t want to draw any more attention to himself. 

There are five of them at the press conference, almost the original line-up: but Clint is retired (“for good this time, dammit”, according to Tony) and couldn’t be coaxed out, and after hearing about the scrap over the Accords (still being legally wrangled, but nobody is going to arrest Captain America if they can help it), Bruce can’t blame him. They announce the new Avengers at the press conference, with the caveat that more will likely follow. They explain what happened with the Thanos situation and that they hope to officially reform to prevent any more threats getting close to annihilating life on Earth, and Thor explains in a rather rousing turn the events in Sakaar (and why it was nobody’s fault that Bruce went missing and they couldn’t find him) before leading on to the movement of his people into the motioned new nation of New Asgard. There isn’t a dry eye in the room by the time Bruce has to make his own statement. 

His throat is dry. His chest hurts because his heart is beating so fast. He feels like he’s going to pass out. Can anybody see how woozy he feels? It’s as if his soul is sitting above his body. 

“Hi,” he says awkwardly. “So, uh, I’m sure that you’ve all seen the photo, and probably read some speculation on it, and I’d just like to clarify. I’m gay.” Silence. Silence. Silence. His truth is out there. “It felt like everything made sense when I figured it out.” He’s wearing his glasses, but the words on the paper feel like they’re blurring. “And yes, I’m seeing Thor, that photograph was not a fake. I’m glad to have found someone that accepts me. And what I really want to say is that seeing the abuse levelled in the media right now - not just at me, but at the LGBT community - I don’t stand for that. What’s so hard about respecting people? The world is tough enough without the hate. So, um, Tony and I are starting a fund. It’s to pay college tuition for LGBT students in STEM fields. Because I really hope that the future - for everyone, not just science - is diverse, and that everybody is given the chance to thrive. Thank you and I will, uh, not be taking questions at this time.” 

His hands are shaking so hard that he places them under the table; and Thor, from next to him, takes one of them and grins at him. Oh, that’s a good grin, a beautiful grin, one that could launch a thousand ships. Bruce is terrified but Thor is smiling at him and for a moment that’s everything that matters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no, i will never get over how bad thanos's plan is

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed this SHAMELESS fluff! i sure enjoyed writing it. happiness only
> 
> thank u to my friend em for reading like everything i ever write and always being supportive. don't know where i'd be without them !! thank u em <3


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